


A Whole Cocktail of Ships

by The_angel_that_fell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkwardness, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, accidental romance, odd ships, this was kinda requested
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-06 02:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8731108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_angel_that_fell/pseuds/The_angel_that_fell
Summary: Crowley/Billie was sparked by the scene where they meet in 11:23. Other chapters were when I found some more ships.





	1. Crowley/Billie

Crowley looked at the sobbing man below him.

"This is ridiculous. I'm was the King of Hell, for Lucifer's sake, not some lovesick schoolboy!" he growled, spinning the scalpel in his hand.

But regardless, one person played on his mind. it was not, as probably expected, the Winchesters or God or even his useless witch of a mother. No, he was concerned with Billie. The reaper. The strong, confident, flirtatious reaper who probably despised him and most likely would love to reap him for once and all and would not think it even worth another second of her thinking space. She was different. She didn't wear the business suits most of the other reapers wore, and she had a sense of humour. Sometimes.

"What do you think of reapers?" he asked, making another cut straight down the man. The thrashing intensified. "Usually I don't care for them, but..." 

 _Hey,_ she'd purred darkly, white teeth flashing, not even pausing. Naturally they'd met before - it was certainly inevitable in what they did.

"Also, we had a thing," Crowley admitted, ignoring the muffled cries for mercy beneath the gag. "Or I think we did. We certainly had a moment back there, and we definitely had a thing in 1980, the height of the Indian summer. And she didn't kill me. Does that count?" There was a definite sound of agreement.

"Sir?" a demon asked, entering the room. "There's... there's a visitor."

"Don't interrupt me, or I'll put you here instead of this weak, whimpering coward."

"Seems a bit overdramatic," said a smooth voice, and Billie emerged from the shadows behind the terrified demon.

"Billie! How lovely to see you. Dismissed," he added, waving a hand towards to the demon, who wheeled the table the man was on out the door swiftly. "Now, what brings you to here of all places?"

"I heard the King of Hell had a bruised ego after the Darkness disappeared. Plus, there were rumours. You do know tortured souls talk, don't you? And when they see me... let's just say, they don't mind talking."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, deciding not to waver an inch.

"Oh, come on, Crowley. Since when do you spill your guts to the pieces of filth out there?"

"Are you saying I'm not a piece of filth? Because I truly do appreciate the compliment." She laughed. He hoped that was something.

"All I heard was that you had an interest in a certain reaper. And when I say interest, I don't mean the purely friendly type." Well. Maybe he would waver a bit and see where this led.

"Hypothetically, if this demon did have an interest in a reaper, he would need to know her opinion on the matter." He raised an eyebrow. "So wouldn't it make sense to drop a hint here or there and see if she truly was curious enough to visit? And if she did, he could a conversation with her without being overheard."

"And if she was interested, what would he do?" she enquired, moving towards Crowley in a way that him in no doubt of what was on her mind. "Because surely it wouldn't be that simple. A reaper and a demon."

"Well," Crowley smiled, taking a step towards her so there wasn't much space left between them, "if that demon was -hypothetically- the King of Hell, he could clear up any doubts among his subjects, and the reaper could undoubtedly do the same. If, of course, there was a... mutual interest." He risked another step, noting that there was barely any space between them. Billie cocked her head, those dark eyes glittering.

"Why would there be no interest?" she asked, and then he was kissing her. He probably tasted of blood and smoke, but Billie didn't seem to mind, moaning softly as he pushed her up against the wall, gripping his shoulders. Crowley pulled back long enough to smirk lazily at her.

"So it's fair to say the interest is reciprocated."

  


	2. Meg/Bela

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another unusual ship. I completely disregarded timelines in the interest of getting them together, so oops for any inaccuracies :)

"Demon, huh?" Bela studied Meg. She wouldn't have thought that some random girl she'd picked up at a bar last night would be a demon.

"You gonna gank me now, hunter?" Meg enquired, brushing her hair out of her face, regarding Bela while propped up on one elbow in the bed.  

"I'm a businesswoman, not a hunter. I must admit, I don't particularly like your kind and as for letting you walk out of here... Don't get your hopes up." Meg just laughed and dropped back down to the pillows, eyeing the other woman like she was still deciding whether to eat her alive or kiss her, and Bela had to admit, that look filled her head with all sorts of inappropriate thoughts. No, she told herself, focus. Demon. Evil.

"I wouldn't try it. But I'm not like the others. I'm happy to walk out of here without harming a hair on your head and next we see each other we can fuck or fight or whatever with no commitment. Live and let live, as the Winchesters say."

"You met the Winchesters?" Bela asked, recalculating immediately. If she was still alive, that definitely meant something.

"Yep. Even helped them - not that they ever appreciate it. I suppose you've had contact with them. Assholes, aren't they?"

"But useful," she answered, and sat at the other end of the bed. Meg nodded, sitting upright, the covers falling down to her waist. Bela guessed she wasn't self-conscious in the slightest anymore; Hell did that to people. "If you want to live, you have to have something to trade. I don't do freebies."

"You're demanding. How about monthly updates on the Winchesters?"

"Oh, make an effort. I can have that any time I want."

"I got nothing, then." Bela tilted her head slightly.

"Demons aren't usually that eager to die."

"If someone's going to get me, I'd much prefer you. I'm living on borrowed time anyway. If Crowley finds me (and he's going to soon) he'll torture me for all eternity, so why not finish it when I get the chance?" Crowley. King of Hell. Bela's mind started spinning, plotting. Suffice to say, she wasn't particularly keen on him, even though she appreciated his business ethics. Having somebody he wanted as a prisoner could result in one of two things. Either he'd reward her and she'd be in good standing, or he'd just destroy her and go straight to who he really wanted and she knew chances were it'd be the latter. Letting Meg walk free would absolve her of any responsibility and it would advocate her position with the Winchesters and the demon herself, for however long she would be around.

"Meg, I don't make this decision lightly. You can walk straight of here, but you will owe me a favour. When I summon you, you will come and you will do what I want."

"Sounds fun," Meg said, and crawled up the bed towards Bela. "How about I demonstrate how grateful I am?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you thought!


	3. Cas/Balthazar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Balthazar are dating and try to explain this.

"You're... dating... Balthazar?" Dean finally managed to say. Castiel nodded. Sam looked shell-shocked.

"But aren't you brothers?" the younger Winchester questioned, frowning. Cas wasn't entirely sure how to word that. They were brothers in arms, yes, and it would be fair to say romantic relationships didn't quite mean the same thing to angels as to humans, and Balthazar was something not definable by any term he knew.

"Cas will just say it's complicated," Balthazar predicted, appearing suddenly behind Dean who jumped and glared. The angel strode blithely to Cas, pecking him on the lips and turning to face the Winchesters with a familiar, _what're you going to do?_ look. "Humans wouldn't get it." He saw Dean's face and stepped in with,

"I understand it's hard to accept, because your way of thinking can be limited at times, yet angels have no such limitations. Balthazar is my brother in arms and lover, and that Is the way it is."

"We're just surprised," Sam stated, eyebrows going up. "It's a bit sudden," he continued, nudging Dean in the ribs when he kept glaring at Balthazar like his stare would burn the angel to death. "But we'll adjust." The angel nodded, apparently satisfied, and leant into Balthazar's arm that encircled his waist.

"See you later, boys," Balthazar said and flew them out the bunker in the blink of an eye, landing them in a picturesque forest with a large, grassy meadow.

"Did you have to do that?" Cas sighed, twisting to face his - well, it would be boyfriend in human terms, but what they had went far deeper than that. Centuries of history together, seeing them through thick and thin, peace and war, confused alliances and tangled enemies, angel on angel violence, angel on human horrors. And they had remained together despite it all, despite everything, saving each other's lives so many times the actual count was lost in the mists of the badly-preserved past. And yet it had taken all that time, all that changing, for them to find each other properly. Balthazar merely laughed at his question.

"Honestly, Cassie, they were beginning to annoy me."

"I told you not to call me that," he said, but kissed the damn angel regardless, hands threading through his hair. He felt Balthazar smirk against his mouth.

"You never seem to mind much," he responded, tracing a finger down Cas' jawline and tipping his head up so he could get better access to his neck.

"Manipulation," Cas complained but let him anyway. God help him, no he didn't mind when Balthazar was biting gently at his throat, and he didn't realise before how sensations could be so powerful in a vessel.

"Nope. Just convincing, darling," he growled. Cas just sighed, amused and world-weary. _Darling._ Balthazar was picking up pet names.

"Why are we here?"

"I thought you'd appreciate it. Quiet, pretty, and it's just us." Demon, he thought dryly. He knew how to distract him.


	4. John/Bobby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John/Bobby because why not

It hadn't been Bobby's idea to take on a whole nest of vampires. No, that was all John. He'd ignored the suggestion to call up some other hunters, or better yet, leave it to the four guys in this town who spent their weekends off taking down werewolves and wendigos.

They'd waited until two of the fangs were out to attack, leaving five in the nest. John had crept round the back while Bobby stayed at the front and had killed two; luring one out back and then beheading the vampire who came to investigate when the first had been gone too long. Bobby plunged straight into the fight, taking out the other two. But it was the fifth that was the problem, hanging silently from the rafters and dropping down to slice a long cut along his chest.

The fang hissed at John as it circled him, but the Winchester was only focused on his friend's crumpled form behind it. He took it out fast and ran to Bobby, doing his best to remain calm even as he saw how deep the cut went, how much blood was being pumped out, how quickly the jacket he used to staunch the bleeding was being saturated.

"Is it dead?" Bobby croaked.

"Yeah, it's dead. Stop talking and try to stay with me. Bobby, listen to me." The hunter's eyes were drifting closed. "You're not dying on a vampire hunt, of all things. Stay with me. Stay with me. Bobby!"

 

John sat silently. His fault. His fault he'd been too proud to ask for help. His fault Bobby had nearly _died_ on this hunt.

"I'm fine, Winchester," Bobby said. "Stop fussing like some mother hen." They looked at each other briefly before he glanced away, feeling the honest stare burning into him.

"I'm sorry."

"Jesus, John, how many times? I don't blame you. Mistakes happen. People slip up." Yeah, people slip up, he knew that, but usually people didn't slip up so badly it nearly gets their friend killed. Friend.

Friend he was starting to see as something more.

Oh, he was so going to Hell. But he knew that already, right?

"Snap out of the self-pity state. We've both got people killed and injured before."

"Yeah, but it was nearly you. I've let down enough people. I can't-" He shut up when he realised he was straying into dangerous territory and that if he continued, he'd say something he'd regret - for example, blurting out the feelings he'd left on the back burner. John rubbed a hand over his face, trying to shove those thoughts down.

"John," Bobby sighed, his tone softening with his eyes. "I'm not helpless." He stood, and wobbled slightly on his feet. John was across the room in a flash, one hand on his shoulder and the other one his waist while the other man reflexively grabbed his right shoulder to steady himself, leaving them in a very close position. He was about to apologise and run away, but Bobby's gaze locked onto his and he leant in, throwing caution to the wind.

Bobby met him halfway, lips colliding clumsily. He held on like he was a life ring in a stormy ocean, like John was the only thing need to keep him alive.

"I..." he attempted when they paused long enough to breathe.

"Don't get all soppy with me," the older hunter growled, and he actually cracked a smile.

"Wouldn't dream of it." _I love you_ , he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments/kudos!


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